Moments in Harlan County
by nekilarose
Summary: A spot for all my Rachel/Tim stories.
1. Yes Ma'am

_Does this mean it's me and the backgammon dude? I'm just sayin', I'm more of a cribbage guy, is all._

_Just get it done._

_Yes ma'am._

* * *

Yes ma'am.

The words reverberated through Rachel's brain long after Tim left the office. She had never thought about the words in any other way except professional, however the easy way Tim had drawled out the words sent a pleasant tingle down her spine.

Judging by the smirk on his face as she left the office, the sly bastard knew it too.

* * *

"Did you mean to leave this in the middle of the floor?" Rachel walked into her living room to see Tim looking down at the box that she'd managed to drag in from the porch.

"Well, I didn't mean to, but since you mentioned it, mind putting it together for me?" She sweetly asked as she went back into the kitchen.

Tim huffed out a laugh and pulled his ever present Leatherman from his pocket, "I come over for a nice home-cooked meal, and the woman puts me to work." He grumbled good-naturedly.

"You say something, Gutterson?" Rachel called out.

"No ma'am."

Rachel paused as she was dishing up the mashed potatoes; Tim was really pushing his luck today. Although, she couldn't fault him, she'd let it show how much hearing him call her ma'am affected her. To all that didn't know him, Tim appeared as some easy going good old boy from down the street, but those that worked with him knew different. The man was sharp. His eyes had been honed in war and saw everything. Once he found something interesting to pick over, he would. Incessantly.

Lost in her thoughts, she didn't realize he was in the kitchen until he brushed past her to get to her sink. "I can't believe you actually went and ordered that coffee table from Ikea. I told you, I could make it for you free. Hell, I got the extra wood back at my house."

"I don't know what's been crawling in and out of that old jumble of stuff you got out back." Rachel protested, "Besides, it was on sale and I like it. Don't it look nice, all professional and shiny?" She teased him.

"Yeah, yeah." He tossed the towel he was using to dry his hands, "If you want some end tables to go along with it-"

Rachel cut him off, "I don't want that old wood, Tim. Find some other way to get rid of it."

Tim took the bowl of potatoes from her, moving into the dining area mumbling about how people didn't appreciate home made things anymore, and how he had piles of extra wood just going to waste.

"I hear Raylan might be looking to put down roots, why don't you ask him if he needs any new furniture?" Rachel suggested.

Tim cocked an eyebrow, "And risk all my hard work be ruined by the inevitable bullets that will surely follow? I think I'll pass."

She snickered as she set the meatloaf and veggies on the table. Knowing Raylan that's exactly what would happen, and then he'd stumble into work and try to talk Tim into replacing it for him. She slapped Tim's hand away as he reached for food before waiting on her to take her seat. "I know you have manners, Gutterson."

"You should take it as a testament to the power of your cookin that I forgot all my table manners." Tim said.

"Wow. Here I thought Boyd was the only one with a silver tongue." Rachel quipped.

She soon put Tim out of his misery and allowed him to fix his plate. She rolled her eyes as he piled his plate high. "You do know it's just you and me, no need to hoard it all."

"I'm a growin boy, Rachel." Tim spoke around a mouthful of potatoes, "I need sustenance."

"Lord, give me strength."

After dinner, he begrudgingly helped Rachel gather up the dishes. "All I'm saying is that I put in a lot of work assembling that table, I deserve a break."

"I got your break, Gutterson."

She surprised him with an apple pie and vanilla ice cream for dessert. Tim faked outrage that neither were made from scratch, but quickly changed his tune when she threatened to take both away.

"You gonna behave?" She teased.

Tim leaned back in his chair, regarding her with a small smile. "Yes ma'am."

And there it was again. That lazy drawl that somehow managed to get under her skin like nothing else. Rachel slowly walked over to where he sat, stopping right next to his chair, "You been saying that a lot lately."

"Just tryin to show respect for my boss." He extended a hand to reach under the long skirt she was wearing, stroking her knee before wrapping his hand behind it.

"Temporary boss." She corrected.

"It's gonna stick." He gave her knee a squeeze, "Who else they got? Me? Raylan?" They both paused to consider what havoc Raylan would cause if he were the one to receive Art's position.

"Don't count yourself out, Tim." Rachel argued.

"I'm not," He countered, steadily stroking the skin of her leg, "I just know there are better candidates." Faster than she could blink, he lifted her to straddle his form in the chair. She placed both hands on his shoulders to steady herself, mindful of the way her skirt rode up to allow for his body between her legs.

"So you won't mind if I'm your boss?" Rachel asked hesitantly. They hadn't exactly defined what they were. Too caught up in the newness of their relationship to put a label on it before being forced to by Rachel's temporary promotion.

"Do I mind gettin bossed around in and out of the bedroom?" Tim grinned as she let out a surprised laugh and smacked his shoulder. She felt her face heat up in embarrassment. "I'm trying to be serious."

"So am I." He ran his hands up under her dress, "You really think I'm the type to get upset that someone who's extremely qualified got a promotion? All because I happen to have the pleasure of being the lucky bastard that gets to warm her bed?" He leaned forward to plant kisses on her collarbone.

Rachel reached around to run her fingers through his hair, "Okay, well, when you put it that way." She tugged on his hair to bring his face up to hers. "Makes a lot of sense." She ghosted her lips over his.

"I'm a real sense makin kind of guy." He tightened his hands on her upper thighs and pulled her closer to deepen the kiss. Rachel moaned as his hands continued to roam wherever he could reach. She finally pulled away, breathing heavily. "Bedroom. Now.

"Yes ma'am."


	2. Better Together

"I NEED HELP!"

"You need to stop hollerin' in my ear."

"I CAN'T BREATHE!"

"Could that be on account of all the yellin you been doing?"

"No, I'm tellin y'all, I think I caught that Chinese sickness. I need to go see a doctor."

"Oh Lord."

"I know my rights as a tax payin' citizen! I'm entitled to go see the doctor, and you gotta take me."

"Oh I do, do I?"

"Yeah! I'm in your custody, that means you gotta take care of me until you hand me off."

"Dewey Crowe, I will eat my hat if you ever even so much as seen a 1040."

"I don't want no damn 40, I want to see the doctor!"

"Enough!" Rachel poked her head out of Art's (hers for the meantime) office. "Raylan, you heard the man, he thinks he might have COVID-19."

"No ma'am, I said I got that Chinese sickness. Don't you people listen?"

Rachel tightens her hold on the door frame, "Mr. Crowe, COVID-19 is the official name for the "Chinese sickness" that you claim you might have." She clarified, unable to keep the sarcasm out of her mouth.

The whole office watched as Dewey cocked his head in confusion before nodding profusely, "Okay, yeah then I got that, I gotta go see a doctor."

Rachel shifted to address Raylan, "Well, you heard the man, he wants to go see a doctor."

"Rachel, you can't be serious-" Raylan started to object.

"I can, and I am." She deliberately brushed a hand over her badge, "We are officers of the law Marshal Givens, and that means we follow that word of the law to the letter. Now if Mr. Crowe says he's sick and needs to see a doctor, then it's our sworn duty to make sure he sees a doctor." She said sternly.

She watched as Dewey's face took on a smug smile. Meanwhile, the few members of the office that were still on shift were waiting for the punchline.

"So you will escort Mr. Crowe here to the nearest testing facility so they can do their tests."

She watched as the blood drained from Dewey's once smug face. "Test? There's a test I have to take?"

Raylan started leading him towards the elevators, "Oh, its nothin' special, they're just gonna draw some blood-"

"Draw some blood! For what?"

"To see if you're truly infected, that's all." Raylan guided him inside and pressed the down button.

"Ain't there another way?" Dewey sounded frantic, "they don't need to take my blood, do they?"

"Well, I suppose they can use the anal probe to check-"

"ANAL PROBE? I changed my mind, I don't need to see a doctor." The closing elevator doors mercifully blocked out the rest of Dewey's pleading.

The entire office broke out into raucous laughter, and even Rachel had to shake her head. Life in Harlan County was never boring, she'd give it that.

* * *

Shift change came and went, along with the majority of agents. It had been decided that even though there was a shelter in place order issued, their office would still be at least, minimally manned around the clock. Rachel had been appointed the acting chief in charge for the overnights with only a few agents on hand.

However it seemed as if even the normally rowdy residents of Harlan were taking the stay home edict seriously, there had hardly been any phone calls or walk ins. The few incidents were mostly of domestic violence that could be handled by the local cops, while her office was on standby if they needed backup.

For the most part it was quiet enough that Rachel was able to get caught up on paperwork, and to start her long awaited project of cleaning up the evidence/storage room. Art said there was a method to the madness, but to her eyes, it just looked like a hot mess.

She was sitting in the office, updating Art on her progress while taking a break when there was a knock on the door. She looked up and couldn't hide the smile that came across her face as she gestured for him to come in.

Tim plopped down on the couch while she spoke with Art, "Actually he just walked in….no I did not tell him to come into work…..yes I will, but it's not going to do any good…..fine, hold on." She pressed the button for the speakerphone, "Okay, he can hear you."

"Now I could have sworn I told you not to come back to the office until tomorrow." Art's country twang came through loud and clear. "I vividly remember saying that."

Tim came closer and took a seat on the edge of the desk, "I'm only here to write up my report, then I'll be heading out."

"You couldn't have done that tomorrow?" Art's voice was thick with suspicion. "Since when are you ever in a hurry to write up a report?"

"Well, I'd like to believe that through your stellar leadership that I've seen the error of my ways." Tim threw a wink at her, he really knew how to lay on the good ol boy charm when he wanted to.

"Kiss-ass." Rachel tamped down on snort that threatened to escape. "Alright, just don't stay too long, Rachel make sure he goes home soon. Maybe he'll actually listen to you, Lord knows nobody ever listens to me."

"I'll do my best." She promised.

"I'm not even gonna ask about Raylan, figure I'll either read about it in the morning paper, or see it in the news." Art spoke with them a little more before hanging up.

Rachel leaned back in her chair, "How was Atlanta? Did you have any problems with the prisoner?"

"Nothin' that a pair of handcuffs and a lead pipe couldn't cure."

"I'm not even gonna ask." She shook her head. "But Art is right, you could have done your report in the morning, what are you doing here?"

He shrugged "Just wanted to check in, see how things were going since I've been gone."

"You were only gone a week."

"And" he continued as if she hadn't spoken, "to see if you changed your mind."

Rachel sighed, "We're supposed to be self isolating, which means, you at your place, and me at mine." Not that she didn't want to, on the contrary, she wanted to very much, but she didn't want to give anyone any ammunition to hurt her career.

He slid over on the desk until he was sitting right in front of her, "But I've been gone one whole week."

_Trust me, I know._ Rachel thought to herself. She hadn't realized how much she liked having Tim around until he wasn't there to make his normal sardonic remarks.

"Plus, I've heard it's better if you buddy up with someone, you know, just in case you get sick." He cajoled.

"You did not, you liar." She stifled a grin as she looked away, he was knocking down all her defenses, and she wasn't sure he was even aware of just how much he affected her. She had more fun with him sitting in a car on a stakeout than she had with her ex-husband doing pretty much anything else.

"Rach?" Tim was looking at her with hopeful eyes. How could someone be so deadly with a sniper rifle,and yet also look like a schoolboy asking a girl out for the first time?

"You better not be expecting me to cook everyday for you, Gutterson."

Tim laughed, "Wouldn't dream of it."


End file.
